


Little Bird

by Girl_with_the_tiger_eyes



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Badass!Reader, Daryl x Reader - Freeform, F/M, little bird
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-25
Updated: 2015-11-26
Packaged: 2018-05-03 08:12:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5283356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Girl_with_the_tiger_eyes/pseuds/Girl_with_the_tiger_eyes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the zombie apocalypse started, Y/N took off on her own.<br/>A lone wolf with a knack for survival, she is better off alone... Right?<br/>One day in the woods she saves the life of a Sheriff, who invites her back to his group.<br/>Within the group, she knows that she is different. Sleeping in trees and great with knives, she keeps to herself.<br/>Or at least she tries.<br/>But then come Daryl Dixon, and suddenly she doesn't feel like such an outcast.<br/>At first Daryl is reluctant to give into his growing feelings for Y/N, but will he allow their companionship to develop into something more, or will the new world tear them apart forever?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Way up high in a tree, you sat cleaning your knives.

The tree swayed gently in the breeze, but you hardly noticed. You spent enough of your time up trees that you found it almost as natural as being on the ground.

The difference is, when you are up a tree, you can actually relax.

Sure, if you let your guard down too much, you could slip and fall to your probable death, but at least that would be quick.

Getting munched by a walker? Yeah not so much.

Up in the trees you found that you felt less lonely.

But that was probably because, even before the world had gone to shit, you'd spent a lot of your time climbing trees, leaving the rest of the world beneath you.

You always felt more at home by yourself, but now that it was the only option...

"Sofia!"

The sound of another living persons voice shocked you so much that you almost fell out of your tree, but you managed to compose yourself and you froze, looking around to try and find the source of the voice.

After a moment, a man in a sheriff uniform moved under your tree, gun out and breathing loud enough that you could hear him.

Hugging close to the trunk, you watched him move past, looking all around him before he once again yelled the name.

"Sofia!"

You flinched and then glared at him. Stupid sonofabitch was gonna get himself killed if he kept yelling like that.

Realising that he was also going to draw walkers your way, you rolled your eyes and waited for him to pass out of hearing range before you quickly sheathed your knives and put everything back in your worn pack, which you shouldered before quickly scurrying down the tree.

You had to jump from the lower branches, but your booted feet hit the ground almost silently, a trick which regularly saved your skin.

Looking around, you wondered which way you should head, turning to run away from the idiot who was going to get himself killed, but then you paused.

Even if he was an idiot, he was alive.

You hated to admit it to yourself, but you were lonely, and you hadn't spoken to anyone in months.

Sighing to yourself, you turned and followed the sound of the sheriff as he looked for this "Sofia" person.

Unlike the man you followed, you were silent as you moved through the trees, aware of everything around you, including the group of three walkers at 2 o'clock, their dead eyes focused on the oblivious sheriff.

Three walkers you could handle, so you pulled a knife out of your leg sheath and continued moving, seeing that the sheriff had now seen the walkers, but wasn't attacking.

Narrowing your eyes, you paused to see how it was going to play out.

Another sound at your 11 o'clock had you turning to look and your breath caught when you saw another pack of five coming for the sheriff.

He was armed with a revolver, so he only had 6 rounds, assuming that he hadn't had to use it yet.

You saw him quickly check and his shoulders slumped.

It wasn't fully loaded then?

With a flick of his wrist, the chamber closed and he pointed it at the nearest walker.

You'd forgotten how loud gunshots were, jumping a little when he pulled the trigger, but you didn't focus on that, and instead, you stood up from where you had been kneeling behind a tree and headed for the sheriff.

He'd only had three shots, so that left five walkers for the pair of you to take down.

Running full speed towards the group, you threw your first knife, not even looking to see as it embedded itself in the walkers skull, and instead, you pulled out another and threw it at another. This time it missed by an inch and stuck in a tree instead.

You tutted and reached for your machete, skidding to a halt behind the sheriff, your back to his.

He had seen you coming and tried to talk to you.

"Who are you?"

Instead of answering him, you lunged at the nearest walker, separating it's head from its body and then twisting away from the reach of another, coming up behind it to finish it too.

The sheriff used a branch to hit one walkers legs out from beneath it, and then bashed in its skull.

The other walker was coming up behind him, but you had his back, so you pulled your knife from the tree and used it to stab up through its jaw and into the brain.

You pulled the knife out and looked around the bodies, panting a little as you took in the scene.

The sheriff came over to you, his hands raised to show you he meant no harm, and you stood up straight and looked him over.

"Hey thanks..."

"Are you stupid, or something?" You cut him off, aiming a glare at him.

He stopped and just looked at you, seeming to size you up for a minute.

You just tutted and went to retrieve your knife and cleaned it quickly before putting it away and starting to head back the way you had came, stopping when you realised the sheriff wasn't following.

"We need to get out of here! Every walker for miles would have heard those shots. We need to find somewhere safe to lay low... Are you coming with me or not?"

He looked torn between going with you or continuing on his path.

You could feel the seconds ticking away, knowing that with every one, walkers would be getting closer. You were just about to leave him when he took a step towards you, and then another one, looking like he regretted the choice already.

Not hanging about for a second longer, you turned and started jogging back through the woods, trying to think of somewhere where you could hide out.

After a moment, the sheriff spoke to you again.

"Hey, have you seen a little girl anywhere? Her name is..."

"Sofia? Yeah I got that... But no. What was she doing out here alone anyway?" You asked, listening as the sheriff explained what had happened.

He had a group on the highway, and they had food and supplies.

"Come back with me," he suggested and you stopped dead in your tracks.

The sheriff looked at you as if you were insane, but you didn't care. That offer felt like a trap.

"People don't just offer other people food and supplies anymore. You don't even know me. This whole thing could be to lure me into a trap..."

You'd seen it happen before.

Most of the survivors had gone a little crazy once the world had ended, and people turned on people.

For some it was because they were scared, desperate even. But for others, it was for sport.

Rick held his arms out, once again showing you that he meant no harm.

"You saved my life, that's good enough for me to trust you. My group is full of great people. Survivors, just like you. You can come with me, or you can go off on your own, the choice is yours. But we're not going to hurt you, as long as you aren't a danger to our group..."

That was fair enough, you thought.

The guy in front of you seemed trust worthy.

He looked like one of the cops that you would have trusted when you were a kid. He looked like a dad.

Deciding, you slowly nodded and watched as the sheriff's face softened.

"Good choice. My name is Rick."

"Y/N," you offered, and you both started walking again, keeping quiet as you followed Rick back to his camp.

When you emerged from the trees, there was a grassy bank that you had to climb up to get to the road.

Standing on top of it was three people.

An old man, a kid and a woman.

When they say you, the little boy's face broke into a smile.

"Dad!" He cheered and broke free of his mother's grip, running down the bank to Rick.

Rick smiled and you stopped, watching the exchange carefully.

The kid looked about 11, but he still had a happy look about him. Like the new world hadn't affected him that much.

You saw the knife strapped to his side though, and knew that it had.

The two others on top of the bank were staring at you, so you didn't move, and instead waited for Rick to say something.

When he noticed you standing there, staring at the other two, he gestured to you.

"This is Y/N. She saved my life."

At that news, the other two adults seemed to relax a little, but before they could say anything, another woman appeared and called.

"Sofia? Have you found her?" She was a skinny woman with short grey hair. She looked like a gust of wind would blow her over and her eyes were red rimmed and puffy.

You guessed she was the mother of the missing girl.

"I'm sorry Carol," Rick started, but Carol was already sobbing, turning and walking away, her hand over her mouth.

You looked back at Rick and he took a deep breath before meeting you gaze.

"I'll introduce you to everyone now."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
The group was bigger that you expected, and surprisingly well set up, if you ignored the fact that their camper was broken down and some of the people were injured, not to mention the tension you could feel between certain people.

It was enough to drive you insane within a few hours, so you volunteered to venture further up the highway to find more supplies.

Some of the others asked if you wanted company, but one look at you was enough to see that you were more of a lone wolf than a pack animal, so they backed off and you set off by yourself, feeling their stares on your back.

The other cop, Shane, had tried to hand you a gun for emergency use, but you had refused. Your knives were the only weapon you would need.

About a mile up the road, you slowed down, hearing the sound of something moving. Something big.

Ducking down behind a car on its side, you pulled your knives out and listened, hearing how the sounds had stopped.

Not daring to breathe, you froze.

Only the tiniest sound gave it away that whatever it was was moving again, so you crept around the other side of the car, knowing that it was just on the other side.

Moving silently but swiftly, you circled, hoping to come up behind the walker and stab it before it knew you were there, but when you leapt out from behind the car, there was nothing there...

A noise from behind you had you spinning around, coming face to face with your prey. Only... It wasn't a walker.

The man in front of you was armed with a crossbow pointed straight at your head, but after a second, he lowered it slightly.

"You ain't dead," he commented, and you lowered your knives.

"And you ain't that bright apparently. Of course I'm not dead! Now you gonna get that thing outta my face?"

The guy seemed to do a double take at your attitude, but he lowered the crossbow.

Now that you didn't have a loaded weapon in your face, you looked at the man, sizing him up, just like he was doing to you. After a second, you remembered some of the others talking earlier and realised who he was.

"Are you Daryl?" You asked, putting your knives away, and he nodded once, so you brushed your hair back out of your face and relaxed a little.

"I'm Y/N. Rick found me... Brought me back to stay with the group. But..." You quickly shut your mouth, realising that moaning about the group not even a full day after you joined them was a sure fire way to get yourself kicked out of it.

Daryl smirked at you though.

"You sick of the bitchin' too?"

Meeting his gaze, you hesitated a second before nodding, which made Daryl chuckle as he stepped past you, strapping his crossbow across his back.

"Ain't one for the bullshit then? You and me are gonna get along just fine," he muttered as he walked past you.

and he was right.

Two weeks later, you and Daryl were rarely seen without one another.

Admittedly you didn't actually say that much to each other while the others were around, and most of your conversations took place when it was just the pair of you in the woods, looking for Sofia.

You hadn't found any trace of the girl in a long time, and though the others didn't want to admit it, you didn't think you were going to find her alive.

Daryl refused to lose hope though, so you humoured him. Obviously you were praying along with everybody else that she was okay, but unless she had somehow found another group, you weren't holding out much hope.

It only made things worse that the kid had been shot.

He was recovering now thanks to Hershall, and the group had a more secure place to stay, and access to maps of the land so you could have a more organised search.

It was your third day of searching since arriving on the farm, and just like the other days, Daryl had come and found you in your "nest", at first light.

That was also how Daryl's nickname for you had come about.

He called you "little bird" because you slept up in trees, away from the others and the way you "flew" up trees so quickly.

You'd never admit it to anyone, but you secretly liked the nickname... And maybe that wasn't all you liked.

Looking over at Daryl, you couldn't help the way your stomach twisted.

It had started the first time he had found you in your tree, maybe the second night with the group.

You couldn't sleep. You felt like they were exposed on the highway, and even though you knew someone was on watch, you couldn't help but feel like you were about to get attacked.

So you stayed awake, watching the woods.

And thats where Daryl had found you, climbing up the tree to sit near you. At first you had just sat, but then you had began talking, and you found that you and the hunter had a lot in common.

Every night since then had been the same, and with them, you and he became closer, friends even.

You were the only one in the group who could make him laugh, and you hadn't been the only one to notice.

Maggie wiggled her eyebrows suggestively at you every time you and Daryl were caught sitting together, away from the rest of the group, immersed in your own private world.

You ignored them mostly, but the hint of a blush always appeared on your cheeks.

Just like it did when Daryl turned and caught you staring at him.

"I got something on my face, or what?"

You shook your head and looked forward again, focusing on where you were going and hoping that your face wasn't too red.

You could feel him watching you, but you didn't look at him, choosing instead to change the subject.

"Shane wants to teach me how to shoot. An "advanced class"," you explained, not looking at him, but you saw him stop out of the corner of your eye, giving you a look before he kept walking, seeming like he wanted to say something, but was struggling with getting it out.

Eventually he broke the silence.

"Like the kind of advance class Andrea got?"

You would admit that the thought had crossed your mind that maybe that's what Shane was after. You'd seen how he looked at you, and the way he liked to stand uncomfortably close to you, his hands brushing against you often enough to be intentional.

But you couldn't be with Shane. You wouldn't let him use you like that, especially when he looked at Lorie all the time, that creepy needy look in his eye. And... There was Daryl.

You didn't have time to answer or continue your thoughts as Daryl suddenly yelled to you.

"Little bird!"

Without even thinking, you hit the deck, hearing as the bolt whistled over your head and then the sickening thunk sound as it hit something hard but wet and meaty.

The walker hit the ground beside you, one of Daryl's crossbow bolts through its eye.

A moment later, Daryl was pulling you to your feet giving you a quick once over to make sure you weren't bitten or hurt, and when he saw that you were fine, he retrieved his bolt and reloaded.

You set off walking again, and after a few minutes, Daryl spoke again.

"You ain't answered my question."

Stopping in your tracks, you were suddenly annoyed at Daryl.

"What do you think I should do? Have you got a problem if I skip off into the sunset with Shane?"

The silence stretched on between the pair of you and when you finally looked at Daryl, you saw that he was completely ignoring you, walking faster to make it clear that he did not want to talk.

Rolling you eyes, you walked on behind him.

He was hyper aware of your every movement as you moved behind him, but he kept his face composed, even though internally he was pissed.

He hated Shane anyway, he had for a while, but it had only gotten worse when he had seen how the pig had been looking at you. He ought to break his face for that alone, but he also knew that he had no business in doing so.

You weren't his girl. He had no claim to you, but still...

He didn't want to see you in the arms of another man.

There was something about you that made Daryl's heart beat just that little bit faster. Even if he tried to hide it, to push the emotions down. It was the end of the world, not some pansy chick-flick!

Growling to himself, Daryl sped up even more, until you were practically jogging to keep up.

"Hey!" You objected, reaching for his arm, but when you touched him, he spun around and pulled free of your grip, snarling at you.

You let go of him, but didn't back off, narrowing your eyes at him.

"What's your problem?" You demanded, wondering if this had anything to do with Shane, but you quickly stopped thinking like that... Allowing yourself to hope.

Internally you face palmed. You were starting to sound like a teenager in a cheesy movie.

"We're supposed to be looking for the girl. That's what I'm doing... We ain't got time for this chick flick bullshit. You wanna fuck Shane, go ahead! But do me a favour and shut up... SOFIA!" He yelled, trying to move again, and you let him take a few steps before you realised what he had said and you put it together.

"Daryl Dixon, are you jealous?" You asked, watching his shoulders tense and you knew you were right.

Holy shit... Daryl liked you back?

He turned around so fast that for a second you thought he was going to hit you.

Instead, he just got in your face and glared.

"Jealous? Over you? Don't flatter yourself, sunshine. I don't give a shit what or who you do. You ain't my problem, and I sure as hell ain't yours. You wanna play footsie, you can go find that asshole Shane. I'm gonna go find that little girl!"

You just stood there, staring each other down for a few seconds before Daryl seemed to get sick of it, and pointed back in the general direction of the farm.

"You know what? Just get out of here!"

When you hesitated a little, he stepped closer and gave you a shove.

"I said get lost!"

You stumbled back, your eyes widening, but quickly narrowing when you saw how Daryl was looking at you. You wanted to move back towards him and punch him for being such an ass, but instead of starting a fight, you turned back around, yelling over your shoulder as you stormed away.

"You're an asshole, Dixon."

He muttered something in response, watching you disappear back into the woods.

"Be careful, little bird," he whispered as he watched you go.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

When you got back to the farm, you marched over to the RV and slammed your knives down on the table, giving everyone the death glare so that they knew better than to try and talk to you, or to ask you what happened.

"Daryl's fine," you growled as you passed a concerned looking Carol.

Once you were unarmed, you grabbed an apple from the basket and marched away from the group, most of whom were looking at you weirdly, and went to your nest.

It had taken you a few hours to get back to the farm, and even though you had wanted to pull his head off, you worried about him on the way back. You usually had his back, and now you didn't you got even angrier. If he got himself hurt, you were going to kill him.

Shutting your mind down, you didn't think about it, climbing up into your tree and getting comfortable instead, knowing that Daryl would return at some point, and then you would be able to relax properly and stop worrying.

You stayed that way for a few hours more, just beginning to drift off when the shout reached your ears.

"Walker!"

You sat up straight eyes scanning the treeline for any sign of one and at first you saw nothing, but then you saw some of the group running towards something, so you leaned forward to watch.

You were closer than the other guys, so you saw the walkers face come into focus first, and when you did, you immediately started scrambling down the tree, hitting the ground hard but not pausing as you ran for the man walking out of the trees.

The others were getting close, but you knew that they might not see him in time, so you yelled.

"Daryl!"

He heard you and hesitated a little, but then the rest of the ground was on him and you slowed down, holding your breath to see how it was going to play out.

Daryl looked rough, like he had been beaten half to death, and you felt your heart stop when you saw the blood.

Had he been bitten?

You took a shakey step towards them, but you saw that the others had lowered their weapons, so you breathed a sigh of relief.

Too soon.

A shot ran out through the fields and you saw the blood spray from Daryl's head and his body jerk as he fell backwards.

No...

"Nooooo!" Rick yelled, turning back around to yell, waving his arms to tell her to stop shooting. It wasn't a walker.

You knew before even looking who had fired the shot, but at that particular moment in time, you didn't care.

Running over to where the guys were leaning over Daryl, you could feel the sobs choking you out, but you had to see him, so you carried on.

Shoving Shane aside, you fell to your knees by the body on the ground, feeling tears begin to spill over, but when you looked at Daryl, you saw that his eyes were open and he was still breathing.

"Oh my god, Daryl? Can you hear me?" You yelled, grabbing his hand and seeing his eyes turn to you as he groaned a response.

"We need to get him inside," Rick muttered and helped support Daryl with T-dog.

"Oh my god, is he dead?"

You heard the question be shouted across the field, and you turned around to see where it had came from, your eyes hardening as you saw her running towards you.

Andrea.

Daryl had passed out, so without a second thought, you started running towards the girl with the gun in her hand.

When she saw you coming, the others carrying Daryl between them, she slowed down and seemed to smile in relief that he was alive, but almost instantly you wiped the smile of her face with a right hook to the jaw.

"You bitch! You could have killed him!" You screamed as she fell back and stumbled. You tried to jump at her to hit her again, but suddenly Shane caught you around the middle, dragging you away kicking and screaming.

"Hey! Calm down!" He ordered, but you ignored him, right up till the point when he locked you in the RV.

Inside you half debated kicking the windows through, but you knew that Dale loved the RV and you didn't want to upset him, as much as you probably already had when you punched blondie...

Growling, you sat down on he bed and stared at your shaking hands, thinking about all that had gone down, and how rough Daryl looked.

Maybe he was attacked by walkers.

He could have been killed because of you and your stupid temper.

You felt sick, but you knew that Shane wasn't going to let you out any time soon, so you lay back on the bed and closed your eyes, letting he exhaustion take you.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

When you woke up, you were surprised to see how much time had passed. You had slept right through till the next morning.

Kinda shocked, you sat up and looked around, finding Dale in the kitchen and the door wide open, so carefully you go to your feet and walked towards it, looking at the old man.

"Can I leave?" You asked, watching him for a response.

He didn't react other than to shrug slightly.

"Well I don't think I could stop you if you wanted out... But I don't think Shane is going to stop you, if that's what you mean?"

Narrowing your eyes, you walked past him and out of the RV, seeing Daryl's tent set up in the usual spot.

Shane looked up when you walked out, but other than giving you a warning look, he didn't react as you looked over at Daryl's tent.

Walking closer, you heard his voice and sighed in relief.

"Next time you shoot me, you'd best prey I'm dead..."

You couldn't help the slight chuckle that escaped you, but when you saw Andrea stepping out of the tent, the smile dropped from your face.

When she saw you, she froze and quickly turned away, avoiding you before something else could start, but giving you a nice view of the bruise on her face.

Smirking, you waited for her to be out of your way before you took a deep breath and walked into the tent, seeing Daryl laid down on the bed, a bandage around his head.

"Little bird," he whispered when he saw you. He tried to sit up and straighten himself up a little, but you moved closer and sat on the edge of his bed, putting your hand on his arm to tell him to be still.

He did so, his blue eyes staring straight at you, even though you looked down at your hands for a moment, unable to meet his eyes after the incident the day before.

"What happened?" You asked, the guilt building within you at the state Daryl had returned in. Maybe it wouldn't have happened if you had stayed with him instead of storming home like a child.

When he didn't answer, you looked up, turning your head to watch him as he stared up at the top of he tent, avoiding your gaze completely.

"Daryl?" You asked, reaching out to touch his face, seeing that something was wrong with him. He didn't look okay, and when your hand touched his cheek, he turned his face into it a little, finally looking back at you.

"M'sorry, little bird..."

The apology hung in the air between you for a few seconds while you stared into each other's eyes, both of you hypnotised by each other, and even though you knew he wasn't happy about your feelings for him, you really wanted to lean over and kiss him.

Instead, you pulled your hand back and sighed, a nervous smile coming to your face when you answered. Daryl didn't do apologies, so you were slightly freaked out.

"It's fine... Besides, from the look of you, I should be the one apologising. You look like shit. What happened?"

He chuckled when you told him how he looked and then sat up straighter, beginning to tell you about what had happened after you had left.

He had somehow fallen down a steep hillside and impaled himself on one of his own crossbow bolts.

He lifted his shirt to show you, and when you saw it, you moved closer, your hands gently touching it and feeling the stitches Hershall had done.

Daryl flinched away a little from your touch, but you ignored him, knowing how men could be complete babies when they got hurt, and so you reached into your bag and pulled out your first aid box.

Digging around in it, you found what you were looking for, and put the rest away, squeezing a little of the cream onto your finger before you gently applied it to Daryl's wound, seeing his stomach muscles tighten at the contact. Realising it was probably stinging like a bitch, you were as swift as you could be, sitting back and putting your supplies away again while you looked at the wound.

"There. It'll burn for a bit, but you ain't gonna get an infection..."

Wiping the rest of the cream off on your jeans you looked back at Daryl, seeing how he watched you.

"So what happened ne..." You were going to ask what happened next, but in that moment, Daryl's resolve snapped and he leaned forward, his hand coming to cup your face as he brought his lips to yours.

His lips were chapped from the sun, but you hardly even noticed.

As soon as his lips had touched yours, you had left the world behind you, nothing else mattered except for you and Daryl.

His kiss was gentle at first, but you grabbed the front of his shirt and dragged him closer to you, your lips holding your own against his and he chuckled before returning the favour, kissing you furiously.

Blood rushed to your cheeks and when he pulled back, you were left breathing heavily, but with a smirk, you saw that he was too.

For another second, you just stared at each other, both of you grinning a little.

"I've wanted to do that fer a while now," he confessed, and grinning, you pushed him back onto the bed, straddling him as you leant down, stopping when your lips brushed his.

"Well then, what took you so long?"


	2. Chapter 2

"Put it up against your shoulder, it helps to keep your aim steady... And use the sight... Just line it up..."

You pulled the trigger, the bolt firing and hitting the edge of the target, the closest you'd managed to get so far.

"Yes!" You cheered, reloading and smiling widely at Daryl as he stepped closer, his hand running across the back of your shoulders lightly as you lifted his crossbow to aim again.

His touch gave you goosebumps, and a small smile lingered on your lips as he came to stand behind you, his hands moving to your arms as his warm body pressed into yours.

"A little higher," he whispered into your ear, his arms correcting your aim.

"Now focus. Eye on the target," he breathed, his breath tickling your cheek.

"Kinda hard to do right now," you grinned, nudging him away as he chuckled.

Focusing once more, you took aim, correcting your arms like Daryl had done.

You took a deep breath and as you exhaled, you pulled the trigger, watching as the bolt flew true, embedding itself in middle ring of the target. Not quite dead centre, but still pretty damn close!

You heard cheering and turned around to see Rick, Carl, Glenn and Maggie watching your lesson, grins plastered on each of their faces.

Grinning, you took a small bow and then tossed Daryl's crossbow back to him.

"How's that?" You smirked and Daryl barked a laugh, addressing the others as he spoke.

"One bullseye and she thinks she's a master..."

You raised your eyebrows at him and then before anyone could blink, you grabbed one of your knives from your belt and threw it as you turned, watching with a smug grin as it hit home with a "thunk", obliterating the black dot in the dead centre of the target.

You turned back to Daryl, seeing how his eyes had brightened with the challenge you had just given him.

"I don't know, Dixon. I'm pretty master at that..." You grinned as you tossed him one of your knives.

He weighed it in his hands for a second before he threw it as hard as he could, him aim true, but the hilt hit the target instead of the blade, clattering away and landing in the leaves somewhere.

Walking to Daryl, you you put your arms around him and smiled up at him.

"It's alright babe, we can't all be as perfect as me..." You teased, feeling his hand moving down your thigh.

Suddenly he had your knife in his hand and he threw it, barely looking at the target. This time it found it's mark, and you exhaled quietly as you saw.

"Okay, that was very hot..." You confessed to a smug Daryl, stretching up to kiss him once before going to retrieve your knives and Daryl's bolts.

You'd all left the prison for target practice and a break from the caged feeling it gave you.

You'd been living in the prison for a few months, ever since stumbling upon it after seven months of roughing it in the surrounding area.

You'd lost a few people since you joined the group, but Rick had lost more than any other.

First Shane, who tried to kill him, and then Lori, who had died giving birth to their daughter, Judith... But loss was a big part of the new world, and even if it hurt, it was normality.

Daryl had lost Merle not too long ago, and you knew that seeing his brother as a walker was a sight that haunted his nightmares, but you were always there when he woke up sweating and gasping for air.

Taking his hand, you led the way back to the prison, the others in tow.

Once you were back inside, Michonne met you and Daryl by the cell blocks, geared up for a supply run.

It had been a while since you'd personally been on a supply run, so you were itching to get away from the prison and explore a little, even if it was only for a half a day or so.

You were just climbing into the car when Carl came running out of the cell block, calling your name as he sprinted towards you, his eyes wide.

Immediately you were out of the car, a knife in each hand as you looked around for any danger.

"W...Walkers!" He gasped and you groaned, quickly following him back and yelling to the other two to just go. You could handle a few walkers.

You didn't know if they listened or not as you were already inside the cell block, racing after Carl.

The walkers didn't take long to deal with, but when you got back outside, you saw that Daryl and Michonne had listened to you. They had gone.

If you'd known what was soon to happen, you'd have said goodbye to them. Maybe you would have kissed Daryl and told him that you loved him... Or you might have grabbed him and refused to let go ever again.

But you were oblivious to the fact that everything you and your group had built was soon to be destroyed, and you would be alone once more.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

No one had predicted the attack from the Governor, and when the fences had come down and the walkers came in, everyone had panicked and fought back for as long as they could, but it was a losing battle and soon everyone had caught on and scattered into the woods, or any vehicle they could.

You had stayed for as long as you could, trying to help your people, but eventually you'd had to run too, screaming for Daryl, afraid that every body you passed would be his.

None were though. He had gotten away, so now all you had to do was make sure that you did too, and you'd find each other again...

That was the plan, but you'd been alone for two weeks since then and still hadn't found anyone from the prison.

You'd given them until that day, and now you would move on, out of the area.

You didn't want to go, but there was so many walkers about, and you knew that if the others were alive, they'd try and find a secure place to regroup... Assuming that they hadn't already, and thought you were dead...

Growling slightly at the thought, you dropped your pack to the ground and climbed out of the tree you'd been 'sleeping' in that night.

Truth be told, you hadn't got any sleep. You'd just climbed it when it got too dark to keep moving, and sat there for hours, staring into the darkness and thinking yourself into insanity.

You still had maybe two hours until the sun came up, but you couldn't sit around any longer, so you set off in the direction that took you away from the prison.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

It had been two weeks since the prison fell, and Daryl still hadn't said a word. Not since screaming himself hoarse the first day.

He hadn't seen you get out of the prison, and it wasn't like he could track you either. There were too many trails and no way to know which, if any, belonged to you.

If it had just been him, he would have risked going back to the prison to search the area, but he had Beth to watch out for too.

It was his responsibility to get her back to Maggie, even if he was torn between that and going back to look for any lead as to what happened to you.

But Beth was alive, which he hated to admit, was more than he knew about you.

So he'd go with Beth, but as soon as she was back with Maggie or the group, he wasn't going to stop until he found out what had happened to you.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

After four weeks of being on your own, you were starting to realise how much of an impact the group had had on you. Before them, you had just about got by, but you never stopped, could never truly relax or let your guard down. You were the only thing that kept you alive, and if you slipped up, you'd die. When you were alone, there were no second chances.

So you were constantly on edge, jumping at the slightest sound, which was why it was so surprising when the dog managed to sneak up on you.

You'd stayed on the ground and risked a fire to cook the couple of rabbits you'd managed to snare, but when you looked up, you saw the dog lurking by the trees, and instantly one of your knives was in your hand.

Quickly looking around, you saw that it wasn't part of a pack, at least as far as you could see, so you might be able to scare it off.

Standing up, you took a step towards the dog, but instead of it acting aggressively, you saw that it was just sniffing at the air, clearly having smelled the rabbits cooking.

Suddenly you felt sorry for the poor dog.

Clearly it was just hungry and had lost it's pack along the way. A lot like you. Maybe that's why you did what you did next.

Sitting back down, you pulled some meat from one of the rabbits and held it out to the dog, watching as it slowly came closer, smelling the air... Smelling you. It wanted to know if you were one of the walkers.

Staying still, you waited as it gradually got closer, eventually close enough that it could take the food, which it did with a snatch.

Figuring it was worth a shot, you snapped your fingers at the dog and told it to sit.

It froze and looked at you for a second, but when you repeated the command, it obeyed.

You almost laughed. It was weird for such a normal thing to be happening at that moment, but clearly the dog was used to humans, as well as zombies, so sighing, you threw it the rest of the rabbit and then took yours, kicking dirt on the fire to put it out as you ate.

The absence of the heat and light was depressing, but you guessed you'd probably feel worse if there was a walker chewing on your face.

Eyeing the dog carefully, you finished the rest of your food and then shouldered your pack as you climbed the tree you had be leaning against, settling in for a few hours.

The dog was still beneath you, but you figured it would lose interest and move on at some point...

Three weeks later and you figured that it wasn't going to happen. The dog had stayed that night, and when you left the next day, it trotted along side you, and had been with you ever since.

It wasn't bad company. It was better than being alone, even if your supplies ran out faster... Her sharper senses alerted you to any walkers before you saw them sometimes.

Luckily she seemed to have learned during her time alone that barking or growling at them would draw attention as she was usually silent beside you, which was something you'd worried about when she first started following you.

You hadn't given her a name, and referred to her simply as Beastie.

She was a loyal companion, and so every time you had to sneak into a store or house for supplies, she would be with you, usually running ahead of you to help you clear the area while you scavenged.

Of course though, the one time you actually needed her, you had climbed through a window and left her outside.

The supermarket you had climbed into seemed to be empty except for you, so first you headed to the pharmacy aisle, but was unsurprised to find it mostly empty.They were usually cleared out first, so after checking them, you looked around a little more, picking up tins of food and managed to find two stray bottles of water that had rolled under counters.

You moved quickly, keeping one knife in your hand at all times and a torch in the other, just in case there were any walkers in there with you, just waiting for you to make a little too much noise.

When your bag was a lot fuller and you had enough supplies for a few days, you started heading back towards the window you had climbed in through, the only bit of light creeping into the supermarket from outside.

Your torch found a t-shirt on the floor and you picked it up and looked at the design out of curiosity, chuckling when you saw what it read.

"Bite me," you chuckled, seeing the irony of it when that was all the walkers wanted to do. The sound of your laugh was strange to you, but you didn't linger on that as you stuffed the tee into the top of your bag and started for the window again, almost there when you paused.

Had that been a noise behind you?

Turning around slowly, your grip tightened on your knife as you shone your torch into the darkness, seeing nothing, so after a few seconds, you turned back to the window and started climbing up the shelves, wanting to get out of there as fast as you could.

No doubt Beastie would be sitting beneath the window, waiting for you to come back, and that thought comforted you a little. As soon as you were out of the window...

You had just reached up for the window sill when someone suddenly had a hold of your ankle and yanked you backwards and down, hard.

You lost your grip on the shelf and fell, hitting the ground on your front, hard enough that you cried out.

You didn't have time to do much else as you were suddenly being roughly turned over, someone kneeling on your chest as they hit the knife from your hand.

It clattered off somewhere into the darkness and you struggled to get free, not able to see much of the person who had grabbed you, from the limited light from the window.

"Get off me!" You snarled, attempting to twist out of their grip, but they were stronger than you it seemed, and their hands were around your throat.

Trying not to panic, you thrashed around, attempting to pull their hands off your neck, but their grip was too tight, and you knew you were going to pass out if you didn't get away from them really soon.

Your blows were getting weaker and weaker, but then you suddenly remembered Rick training everyone how to get a human attacker off you if they were strangling you, so quickly you put your arms between theres and separated your arms quickly, knocking out their elbows and loosening their grip enough that you could suck in a breath and quickly punch them in the side of the head.

While they were stunned, you arched your back quickly, throwing them off your chest and giving you time to scramble to your feet and take a few deep breaths.

Your other knife was already in your hand when your assailant was on their feet facing you.

It was a woman, her wild hair matted to her face in places and her eyes wide and bloodshot as she stared at you.

"Stealing my stuff. Thief!" She snarled at you and you narrowed your eyes at her.

She had nearly a whole supermarket, but couldn't spare a few tins and water bottles?

Instead of letting you reply, she rushed you, shrieking wildly as she lashed out at you.

On your feet, it was a more even match and you were able to fight back.

She may have been bigger and stronger than you, but you were the more skilled fighter, and you had a knife.

When she grabbed your hair and pulled, you yelled and punched her between the eyes, seeing red as she released you, but before you could take a step towards her, you screamed as you felt something stab into your abdomen.

You collapsed to your knees and saw that the woman hadn't been alone and a younger guy had been with her. The guy who had just stabbed you with your own knife.

He walked passed you, helping the woman to her feet as they both looked over at you with crazed eyes.

The blood was already tricking out between your fingers, but you knew that if you didn't act quickly, they were going to kill you.

Clearly they thought you were no threat to them now as they didn't pay you much attention as you reached into the back of your jeans and grabbed the hand gun you reserved for emergency use only.

You'd never had to fire a shot before, but as you clicked off the safety in your slick hands, the guy noticed and quickly moved to take it from you, but you pulled the trigger before he could move close enough.

The woman had barely enough time to comprehend what had just happened when you trained the gun on her and pulled the trigger twice, both rounds slamming into her chest.

You watched as she collapsed on top of the guy who had stabbed you, both of them unmoving.

Dropping your gun, you looked down, flinching at the pain and sight of blood coming from your stab wound.

It was bleeding heavily, but didn't seem to be too deep, so you quickly picked up your fallen knives and cut your new shirt into strips, wrapping them around the wound until it hurt but the blood had slowed.

You knew that walkers around the area would have heard the shots, so you knew you'd have to move quickly.

Sheathing your knives, you struggled to your feet, crying out at the pain it caused you.

Looking up at the window and the shelves you were going to have to climb, you knew it was only going to hurt more in a few seconds, so you grit your teeth and got on with it, climbing much slower than you would have liked, but eventually you reached the window and looked out, seeing Beastie waiting for you, growling softly as she ran in circles, waiting for you to come back.

Throwing your bag out first, you struggled to get your feet out of the window, holding onto the sill before dropping down to the ground.

You didn't have time to stop and rest though, even though you wanted nothing more than to lie there for a few hours.

Walkers would be coming, and you needed to bind your wound properly or you were going to bleed out.

So grabbing your pack, you started running for the cover of the trees.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Daryl and the group had been in Alexandria for a week, and he was going crazy.

He'd lost Beth, but Carol was back, and the rest of the group was back together, and safe.

They were all safe again, for the first time since the prison. Maybe even safer than they had been then.

He hadn't seen a walker in days.

Everyone had a place in their new home, and they were settling in mostly okay.

But Daryl couldn't relax. He couldn't rest easy in comfort, when there was every possibility that you were out there somewhere, alive and surviving out there.

Rick knew what was wrong with his friend as he approached him on that morning, clean shaven and looking more relaxed than he had in a while.

At first he just sat across from Daryl on the porch railing, not speaking, and just waiting for Daryl to speak his mind.

"She's alive," he mumbled after a moment, not looking at Rick as he did so, knowing the mix of emotions that were going to cross his friend's face. The same ones that everyone got when he mentioned his little bird.

After a few seconds of silence, Rick sighed and looked down at his hands.

"Daryl... No one saw her get out of the prison... And everyone else who got out of there is back... I know she's a survivor, but it's been a long time..."

"Fifty one days."

Rick frowned as he looked at Daryl, who met his gaze unflinchingly.

"It's been fifty one days since I lost her. Since that sonofabitch brought the fences down and we all ran... When I ran, without Y/N... But she's alive Rick, and I'm going to find her."

With that, he stood up and grabbed his crossbow, jumping off the porch and walking down the street, heading for the gate.

Y/N was out there... She had to be. Daryl had lost too much, and he was going to get you back. Or he would find out what happened to you. Either way, he wasn't going to rest until he found out.

He was barely at the gate when Rick, Glenn and Maggie caught up with him, dressed and armed for a trip out of the gate.

None of them had to say anything. They were going to go with Daryl. After everything Daryl had done for the group, he deserved at least that, so with a nod shared between them, they started heading out.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Trying not to scream, you removed the bandage from your wound, inspecting the inflamed skin and the pus that had started to leak from it.

You'd have been disgusted if it didn't hurt so much.

It was infected. Not with the zombie virus... You'd always cleaned your knives if they came into contact with zombies... Just a regular infection that you didn't have the antibiotics to fight.

Leaning up against a tree and breathing heavily, you almost laughed.

After everything you'd survived, and how far you had come on your own, blood poisoning was going to be what ended you.

You wanted to cry... To scream at the skies and declare that it wasn't fair. You didn't deserve to die that way. Not after fighting so hard to stay alive. You'd had a second chance at life, and you had a family you had to find... If you died, you never would...

With that thought, you re-bandaged your wound and set off walking again, knowing that you were too weak to fight if walkers found you. You could hardly lift your arms as it was, let alone throw a punch or use your knives.

Beastie was still beside you, her pace slowed as she too noticed your weakness.

You felt sorry for the dog. If you didn't find help soon, she'd have to hunt her own food again.

You brushed your fingers over her head as you walked, finding comfort in the touch, but also needing it to remind you what was real.

Your vision was becoming blurred and you had to blink a few times before you could see again.

There were blurs on the horizon though, and you figured they had to be walkers.

You'd had to move back onto the road as the forest terrain was proving to be too much hard work in your state, and you were more likely to find a car on the road. Though you were in no fit shape to be driving.

"Friends don't let friends drive drunk," you muttered to the dog, choking on a laugh at the absurdity of your situation. 

The shapes on the horizon were getting clearer now, and you figured you should move, but something about the way they were moving had you hesitating from getting off the road.

A few moments later and it became clear.

They had weapons.

Even that far off you could see the weapons they carried, so they had to be uninfected.

Of course there was always the chance they would kill you anyway, but you had no choice. At least they would make it quick.

Beastie began to growl as she noticed them, but you shushed her with a wave.

The people must have spotted you by now, but you didn't have enough strength left to call out to them.

Looking up though, you saw that they were running towards you now.

Stopping in your tracks, you waited for them to get closer.

But after a few seconds, you saw the leader and felt your heart freeze in your chest.

No... It couldn't be...

You couldn't help it as you broke into a run, heading for the four people who ran for you, the guy with the crossbow in front.

You both came to a stop when there was about 15ft between you.

It was clear that it was Daryl then, and you could see the others behind him, watching the two of you with smiles on their faces.

But your focus was on Daryl.

He was looking at you like he didn't believe you were real. His bottom lip was trembling as he looked like he was struggling for words, but then he just dropped his crossbow and crossed the distance between you with long strides, falling to his knees in front of you.

His arms circled you as his forehead touched your stomach and he breathed heavily.

Your hands were in his hair, holding him close as your stared up at the sky, tears falling from your eyes as you struggled to hold in your sobs.

They were there. Daryl was there.

Beastie yipped from somewhere to your side, and you and Daryl both looked over to her.

She was wagging her tail and watching the pair of you, looking unsure of if she should attack or not.

Clicking your fingers at her, she sat and you said the first thing to Daryl in 52 days.

"Her name is Beastie..."

Daryl laughed his head going back to your stomach.

"A dog? You replaced me with a damn dog?"

You laughed as you cried, falling to your knees in front of Daryl and taking his face in your hands as you leaned forward and kissed him hard on the mouth, not letting anything else be said between the two of you before you did what you had been wanting to do since watching him drive off the morning the prison was attacked.

He kissed you back fiercely, his hands pressing hard into your back as he held you as close as he could.

Your world was spinning, but it took a few seconds for you to realise that it wasn't just the kiss, but then it was too late for you to do anything as darkness swallowed you.

Daryl felt you go limp in his arms and quickly pulled back, his eyes going wide when he saw that you were out.

"Y/N?"

When you didn't answer and your head flopped forward, Daryl started to panic.

"Y/N!" He yelled, helping you to the ground, and looking up to the others who racing towards the pair of you now, their grins gone now.

Daryl touched your face, seeing that you were burning up, but after putting his head on your chest, he found that you were still breathing.

"She's burning up!" He growled, his composure shattering for the first time in front of the others.

Glenn stayed on his feet, keeping an eye out for any walkers while the other three kneeled around you, trying to help.

Maggie held your hand while Rick looked you over with a grim look on his face.

"Check her for bites," he ordered, and Daryl did so, checking your arms quickly and then pulled your tee up to reveal the bandage.

He paused when he saw it, expecting the worst, but then he steeled himself against whatever he was about to see and removed the bandage, seeing the wound beneath.

It was horrible, but it wasn't a bite.

Rick saw it too and sighed in relief.

"We have to get her back to Alexandria. She's got an infection... She needs the doc..."

Daryl was already hunting through his pack though, pulling out a small stash of antibiotics he always kept on him since T dog.

Crushing two up, he added them to a little bit of water and forced you to drink it before allowing Maggie to remove the old bandages and quickly wrap the wound once more.

Then Daryl pulled your tee back down and handed his crossbow to Glenn before scooping you up into his arms, terrified that he was going to have found you too late.

They were only a few miles out of Alexandria, but Daryl couldn't help but have flashbacks to the last person he'd carried how he held you now.

He hadn't been able to save Beth, but like Hell was he going to let you die now. He couldn't.

Setting off in a run, the group raced back to Alexandria, as fast as they could with Daryl carrying you.

He looked at your face as he ran, praying for your eyes to open again.

"You hold on, Little bird... You hear me? You hold on!"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

When you woke up, you were clean. That was the first thing you noticed. The next was that you were in an actual house, in an actual bed, wearing clothes that weren't your own.

A little dazed, you sat up, trying to remember where you were and what happened to you.

It was a blank though, and it only hurt your head trying to remember, so you got out of the bed, seeing your knives beside the bed, you strapped them on, looking around the room.

It was very clean, and that put you on edge.

Were you dead? Wherever you were was far too nice to be real. You had to be dead...

You were almost willing to accept that, but even in death, it seemed you were careful and didn't wanna risk anything.

Walking through the house, you found that you were alone, so you stepped outside of the front door, squinting into the sunlight and looking down the street, looking for any sign of walkers or people.

What the hell had happened to you?

Walking into the middle of the street, something behind the houses caught your attention and you stared at the huge fence surrounding wherever you were.

Feeling your heart rate increasing, you quickly looked around you again, feeling trapped and like you were going to be attacked any moment.

Unwilling to hang around, you took off running down the street, your bare feet slapping the road as you ran.

At the end of the street though, you came to a stop, seeing people everywhere.

People. Not walkers.

In your moment of hesitation, a few of them surrounded you, and immediately your knives were in your hands, keeping the strangers at bay.

"Y/N! It's okay!"

You didn't recognise the woman who addressed you. How did they know your name?

Baring your teeth at the group, you only got more panicked when more people joined the group surrounding you, eradicating your chances of running without having to fight.

A sudden pain in your abdomen had you recalling what had happened to you.

You'd been stabbed... You'd been dying... But then...

The rest was foggy, but just because they had saved you didn't mean that you weren't going to start throwing knives at their faces if they didn't let you go.

Pulling your arm back to throw your first knife, you stopped only when someone called your name and stepped directly in front of you.

Daryl.

Seeing his face, your knives dropped to the ground and you stumbled into his arms, suddenly remembering the rest of what had happened to you.

Burying your face in his chest, you felt his strong arms around you, providing you with a feeling of safety you had been craving for so long. 

You didn't say anything, hearing Daryl yelling at the others.

"Clear off! Ain't nothing to see here! Give her some space!"

You didn't open your eyes to see if they were listening to him, instead focusing on the scent and feel of him holding you close.

"It's okay, Little Bird. I got you. You're okay," he whispered to you as he picked your knives up, and then without another word, picked you up and carried you back towards the house you had awoken in.

He didn't say anything else until you were back in bed and he was leaning over you, staring deep into your face, his hand stroking your hair gently.

"I'm gonna get you some food... You need something. You look like hell," he gave you a crooked grin and you barked a short laugh back at him, letting him give you a small kiss before getting up and leaving the room to get you some food.

When he comes back, you were laying on the bed with your hands over your eyes while you quietly cried.

He watched you for a second, before putting the soup he'd made you down on the bedside table.

He sat down on the bed beside you, brushing your hair out of your face and waited for you to say something. 

He quickly checked on your wound while you pulled yourself together and then spoke, your hands still over your eyes.

"It was hard out there... On my own... I... It was hard," you confessed, remembering how the past few months had gone.

Daryl didn't say anything at first, just staring at his hands as you wiped your eyes and then stared at the ceiling.

After a few more moments of silence, Daryl spoke.

"What happened to you? You were dyin'. Somebody hurt you. How did you even find us?" 

So you explained everything you'd been through since the prison. Fighting the living and the dead. Finding the dog and then just keeping going, hoping that you'd find them somewhere along the way.

Daryl listened carefully, his hand tightening around your own when you told him about getting stabbed, but you stroked the back of his hand with your thumb, gradually calming you both down.

When you had finished explaining, the both of you were quiet for a few moments while you looked at Daryl staring at your entwined hands, your smile getting wider as you watched him.

"I really missed you, Dixon..."

He looked back to you, and upon seeing your smile, he started to smile himself.

Seeing that, you couldn't help it as you reached up and grabbed the front of his jacket, pulling him down to you.

He stopped just as your lips grazed.

"You're not going to pass out on me again this time are you?"

Chuckling, you pulled him the rest of the way, kissing him like you were going to lose him again.

You didn't know if it was the fact you'd been apart so long, or just that you loved him so much, but the kiss totally obliterated you, and when he pulled back, you saw that it had had the same effect on him too.

He crawled over you and lay beside you, just staring into your face, one arm across your stomach, as if scared that if he let you go, he'd lose you again.

Deciding that it was time, you told him something you should have told him a long time ago.

"I love you, Daryl Dixon. I love you, and I'm not ever letting you go again. You're mine..."

A small smile graced his lips as you spoke, and then he was moving closer, kissing your collarbone lightly before replying.

"I was always yours... I always will be, just like you'll be mine. My badass Little Bird."


End file.
